The genesis of this book is part of its magic. One day the author's mother contacted her from beyond the grave, together with a Native American who had lived one hundred years before her, and gave Roark her most unusual charge to date. As she put it, she became the scribe for a couple of dead people. Wilma and P'oesay Apyan wanted to tell their stories, and Kelley would tell it for them. What emerged was a powerful tale of two lives, intertwined with their loves, their challenges, their disappointments, elations, and ultimate acceptance. Wilma made her way through the back alleys of mental illness while raising a family. P'oesay faced being orphaned, opening himself to life, and watching his people being gradually crowded out by the ever-advancing sea of settlers in 1800's Colorado. While the external events unfold, a deeper tale emerges, and we all learn what they learn, to see the undercurrent of life, the deeper journey represented by Moving Waters. "I just finished reading your book. I could not put it down. It reminded me of my own journey, filled with my own trials and tribulations. I cried, and I laughed. I saw my past, my future, and my present. I saw myself as a mother, and grandmother, as a child, as a soul, and as a spirit turned to moving waters by coming to terms and accepting my life as it is with all its gifts and lessons, all the beauty and the pain of the dark night of the soul we all experience as human beings. Thank you for sharing it with me. Through your book, I too honored my mother." -Carmen Page From the Dedication: "No one really exists within a moment of time. Each of us is a composite of all that has come before. I once saw my parents like a sort of sad snapshot.... Two people who had "failed" in their mission to create a happy life for themselves. Two people who were often lost, frequently discouraged, and sometimes battered by life. When I was younger, in my confidence, I believed myself to be somewhat superior to them---to have a clearer direction, deeper insight. I saw myself as evolving and emerging from the confusion of their lives as a stronger, happier version of them, who knew enough to detach myself from their often misguided, unspoken life lessons. "Then I received the unique opportunity to hear about my mother's life from her perspective. For the first time in my life, I saw the "big picture"---how she had really lived, what she had suffered, what she had loved and lost, what she had gained, and what she had learned. "And when that tale was told, I was left with a picture that exemplified the nobility of human life. We struggle, we love, we sometimes suffer, we advance sometimes after many setbacks, we are sometimes blind, and sometimes we obtain great insight. But most of all, we try. "If we are lucky, we live our lives with every ounce of pluck that we have left in us. We give all that we have to life, and then, when it is all depleted, when we are weak and on the floor, we pick ourselves up and we give more. That was the true story of my mother's life. She tried. She made every effort within her power to be the woman, the mother, the human being, that she wanted to be. She often felt herself a failure, but she never stopped trying. "I am both touched and saddened by her story. I wish that during that epic effort that was her life, I just once had held her in my young, strong arms, and congratulated her for a life well-lived. "Well, Mom. Here it is, 25 years later. This book is my tribute to you, my way of honoring the woman that you were, and the woman that you birthed within me. "Thank you" does not come close to adequately expressing my gratitude, so let me end with my most important message to you: "I love you."
